Wild Fire
by Green1
Summary: *Rachel/ Al* Halloween has come around again and Rachel is determined to have a nice night, regardless of Al's wishes.


Wild Fire

By Green

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. This story is Rachel/ Al. I don't make claims to being a decent writer. You've been warned.

"All my life I've been waiting for,  
In this perfume of pain,  
To forget when I need more,  
Of love's endless refrain."  
-Fleur du Mal by Sarah Brightman

I leaned over my dresser and examined my make-up in the tall mirror. It wasn't a perfect job -- the stores didn't hold a foundation pale enough -- but in all, I did good. Huge green eyes stared back at me and I smacked red-orange colored lips. I grimaced. The color made me feel like a whore.

Too bad Al won't see, the thought drifted up from my subconscious. He'd get a kick out of it.

The thought startled me. It was true but I had no idea where it came from. Tonight was Saturday, our traditional teaching date. I'd told him that I wished the day off (albeit, I did it the cowards way, calling him on a bright Tuesday morning) and even offered to stay with him longer or make it up in some other way (supplies or what not)) but he hadn't gone for either.

I'd be in the Ever-after by now, bent over some ancient book, perfectly comfortable in the quiet study. I'd probably even be looking forward to ... A strange regret curled through me. I didn't miss him or his stupid lessons. He was a jerk... a terrible, horrible --

"It looks fine," Ivy said from the doorway. Her velvet voice cut through my thoughts like a jigsaw. She gave me a once over. "But you might want to tighten your dress..." Her look suggested that she could see down it.

I started and dropped my gaze to the front of my dress before up to met her eyes in the mirror. Her face held a hint of humor. She was always amused that she could startle me. Maybe that's why she did it so much. I straightened and smoothed down my dress. "I know. I can't do it on my own," I confessed, refusing the urge to bit my bottom lip.

She came forward without the familiar timidity I was used to. Algaliarept had taught me how to disable the vampire bite and the sight of her no longer sent my mind reeling. Maybe he'd been jealous? I hoped. Her scent was comforting but it didn't send tingles down my spine anymore. Deft fingers tightened the top of my dress, pressing my sad excuses of breasts into something that looked a tad more feminine.

Ivy stepped back and made a gesture for me to turn around. After a pause, she nodded. "You look good," she said.

"Thanks," I said and meant it. A genuine smile reached my lips and I tucked a curl behind my ear. Coming from Ivy, the glam girl herself, it was a compliment. I got little enough of those as it is. I knew I wasn't anything close to beautiful and so I was determined to bask in the praise.

She folded her arms and leaned against the doorway. "What did your mom send you? More charms?"

My brows lifted and I forced the snort down. I bet she opened the package again, looking for more of those Nancy Drew books. God only knew why she just didn't go to a bookstore and find the volumes she was missing. She had the grace to blush as she shifted.

I opened the desk drawer and picked up the box. She'd sent me a variety of charms, all made by her and invoked with her blood. When I first opened the box, her warm scent wafted up from the box and I realized how much I missed her. She'd always been my responsibility but it was only then that I realized how much stability she'd brought to the chaos of my life. She was the eye to the tornado that tore through my life.

I moved the clutter of make-up aside and set three charms on the table. And it was depressing to have someone make my charms for me but less so than to try (and fail) to make my own. More and more my blood refused to work. That was, if nothing else, the hallmark of recent life changes.

I'd asked Al about it, but he hadn't said much other than it was a sign of my 'growing up', whatever that meant. He'd also been so kind to throw in a 'adults should put away childish things', of which I refused to argue over.

Stupid Al, I thought, longing bubbling up. I pushed it away savagely. I would enjoy this party. It would be fun and I would probably meet someone. We wouldn't have sex but I'd know that I could be happy with someone normal at a party (and someone not a demon.)

Where was that annoying demon? Why wasn't he even trying? He'd attempted to call me for all of ten minutes before giving up and he hadn't pop up to drag me off. I made certain I would bake some Halloween cookies right after his attempt call, in case he wanted to fight it out and I might've missed him by being elsewhere in the church.

I wondered if it was easy for him to put me off like that. Maybe he was enjoying his night of freedom in one of those horrid parties. Maybe even in the arms of a gorgeous familiar ...

That would be so like him, I decided. Here I was, actually missing the lesson and the quiet of his home. He would be living it up, wouldn't he? Enjoying himself. What a bastard.

I pushed him from my thoughts. There was more important things to focus on, such as MY party, and not the lack of Al.

My mother had put the scent charm into a delicate redwood rose. It hung on a tiny silver chain. I held it up, examining it in the light, before I pulled my natty hair around one shoulder and clasped it on. It hung in the hollow of my throat and the sweet smell of sandalwood and rose wafted from it.

Ivy inhaled deeply. "Nice," she said, eyes dilating. I watched her expression in the mirror, expecting to feel something but there was nothing there. That was for the better, I thought, turning my attention back to my own reflection. Now that our relationship had been firmly drawn in the sand, Ivy seemed more at ease and relaxed around me. I guess when the prey stops acting like a frightened rabbit then the wolf can relax as well.

I grinned as I dropped my attention to the remaining two charms. Both were hair charms and my mother had fixed them into decorative bracelets of wooden flowers and pink quartz crystal hearts. "These are even better," I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. "I haven't tried them out yet. Tell me which one you think is better."

After a nod, I picked up the first charm and slipped it on. I felt the change before I looked into the mirror. My mouth dropped open. "Oh my God!" My mother had done it. She'd actually done it! I turned my head, straight wispy red hair floating about my face. It wasn't quite as delicate as elfish hair was, but it was close and very, very straight.

I turned sideways, staring down. My hair hung past my bottom. I almost laughed. I'd have to cut it, I thought, wondrously, if I kept wearing the charm. I ran a hand through my hair, enjoying the feeling.

I would never discount my mothers skills. For all her spaciness, she knew her stuff.

Ivy was silent behind me as she hesitantly reached out and touched my hair, probably hardly believe what she saw. "It's not a ... an illusion?" she asked, licking her lips. Magic in general made her nervous and the more marvelous the results, the more skittish she seemed. I wasn't certain why.

I shrugged. "Sort of," I said. "It's real as long as it touches skin." I hesitated taking it off. "Should I go show Jenks?"

Ivy opened her mouth, as if to call him, but shut it with a shake. "No. I think he's with Nixy tonight." Her lips pursed in thought. "At least, that's what I think. He rushed out of here after our run. I think she's a bit intimidated by our garden," she added with a smile.

I nodded, the familiar guilt and grief rising up in me. It was partially my fault Matty had died. Maybe if I had ... I pushed the thought aside. That would do no one any good, I thought.

Nixy was a bit of an old maid in pixy terms. Nine years old and no husband, she'd found employment in the FIB to supplement her two by two foot garden box. I'd met her once and found her as beautiful as all pixies are, though her coloring drastically different. She's fierce and shy, a strange combination. I wished Jenks all the luck I could give him.

Feeling a bit subdued, I slipped the charm off. Ivy jumped back as my hair snarled up again. "Next one," I announced, catching it up and slipping it on my wrist.

I had thought the second would be some variation of the first. Maybe make my hair thicker or more shiny, but instead large, glorious curls fell down my back. My hair was long and by the virtue, heavy. I didn't think the curls couldn't remained in my hair; it must be the charm.

"This is nice," I said. And it was. Better than the first, I decided.

Ivy made a sound of appreciation. "This one is better," she said, eyes watching as I turned my head this way and that.

The big lushicous curls fell above the small of my back. I studied my hair, uncertain which style I liked better. Curls have been the bane of my existence since I could walk. Let me tell you how unfun it is to wear just one style growing up (if you can call a pony tail pulled so tight that it brings tears to your eyes and a braid as being a style) and how hard one must pull at your hair to get a brush through it.

I would've thought I'd hate the curls but I found myself smiling as I twisted my hair up and put it on my head. It fell about my face in a comely wave and I stared, rapt, at how gorgeous and elegant it made me look, especially in my dress.

Just then the sun peaked the horizon, sending one last valiant burst of light before falling into the earth for the night. I looked at the window for a moment, my lips pressed together, before turning to Ivy. "So?"

"This one," she said. She pushed off the door frame and turned to leave. "Let me finish getting dressed. It shouldn't take long." Ivy had chosen our outfits to compliment each other. She was going as a dignified English gentleman, hair pulled back and light make-up. She hadn't really done anything to start, but she always seemed to be three times as fast as I was getting dressed.

An unexpected sneeze ripped through me. I froze and felt Ivy turn back. I looked over my shoulder at her, our eyes meeting. A heart beat went by and another. I let out my held breath but another sneeze ripped through me. A third and forth followed shortly there after and suddenly I was wracked by sneezes.

I might've chuckled. "He must be pissed," I managed between sneezes. A strange giddy feeling passed through me. I'd gotten to him.

"Do you want me to get your mirror?" She wore the terrified expression she always does when faced with anything magical. I was about to nod but a horrible falling feeling pulled through my stomach and I groaned.

I sat on my bedroom floor, hand pressed to my middle. "No," I gasped as a new pull washed over me. "Damn him!"

Ivy now took on the wide-eyed look of a frantic deer. "What? What's happening Rachel?" She came into my room and knelt before me. She forced my face up to meet hers then swore under her breath. "He's summoning you?"

I gave her a wane smile. "Unless someone else is." I considered that then shoved it away. Al wouldn't give out my name. It was a major bargaining chip and I can't imagine my mother ever summoning me. I'd told it to her but she's probably already forgotten it.

"Should I get Ceri?"

It could also be Ceri, summoning me for Trent. She could take care of herself but maybe Trent had pushed her. I chewed on that but shook my head. I knew she was made of tougher stuffs than all of those damn elf-burger men she lived with and wouldn't do that. "No," I said again. "What's the point? It's Al. I can feel it."

I'm going to kick him, I thought, leaning over. The art of stopping my inner will to fight against the pain was something I hadn't mastered yet. It always sprung up like a knee jerk reaction. Oh, that's a good word. Have I called him a jerk this past month?

Ivy bit on her bottom lip quite becomingly. No wonder Glen was interested in her. I felt a pang of jealousy, quickly gone. "But the party --"

"The burnt amber will take a week to get out of my dress." I sighed and smoothed my bodice. "And how would you get to Ceri? Trent has her locked up tight in Elf-central."

The last time I'd seen Ceri, over six months ago, she'd said she was trying to spy on Trent. I hadn't heard hide nor hair from her, not even if she'd had a girl or boy. Part of me thought she was frightened of me. She'd known what I was before anyone else had and even back then, when she'd been uncertain, I'd seen the changes in the way she approached me.

I didn't blame her. Not logically, at least. She had an infant and had ancestral fears to contend with. It must be like having a tame tiger about, even if you know it's tame and it's never done anything to hurt you, you'd still be cautious about setting a small infant on its side.

Rawr, I thought. Maybe I'll bite him.

Ivy took a step back and straightened to her full height. "I --" She didn't like my budding relationship with Al but she turned her face away. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment.

I shook my head, about to offer my own apologies, but another cramp hit me. "Bye," I whispered, letting go of my will to remain here. Ceri had mentioned once that female demons didn't let people pull them across the lines. I wondered if it was a female thing or maybe just a Newt thing. I can't imagine anyone forcing Newt to do anything she didn't want to.

A very small glimmer of triumph coarsed through me. I'd gotten to him, gotten him made enough to summon me. He'd never done that before. I tried to push the thought from my mind. It disgusted me.

The familiar scent of burnt amber came to me first. I blinked in the dim light, looking about the workroom. I sat on cool marble, in that horrible writhing woman glyph. What was up with the woman thing? I shifted my attention to Algaliarept. One might say Al looked angry... if one could say a half-starved pack of lions just wanted a nice head pat and some cuddles.

"We had a deal," he said, his voice making glaciers jealous at the depth of his ice.

"Hello to you too," I muttered, struggling to get to my feet. The folds of my dress tangled, threatening to pull my bodice down. I yelped, almost falling over and caught myself. The bastard did nothing to help me, of course. 'I bet you're enjoying the show,' I thought when I saw his look.

"And I told you that I wanted Halloween off," I said, trying to fix my dress and recover my dignity. "You ruined my last one, remember?"

Al huffed. "Halloween is important here too." He took a step towards me. "When are you going to realize your people are here?"

"Yeah?" I sneered. "Don't get enough newborns to eat during the year?" I took a step back and gave him a once over. He was wearing green, but the clothes were classier, his party stuff. "I'm not one of your people," I said after a moment. "I might not be a witch but I'm sure as hell not a demon."

I don't know why I was egging him on. It wasn t that I was angry, not really. I was used to his treating me like a child. It always chaffed me but ... Maybe it was because you worried about him all day, a small part of my mind whispered. Maybe you want to punish him?

Stupid, I snorted.

Maybe it because the only time you see any real passion from him is when he's angry, the voice whispers. It excites you, admit it.

That thought stopped me cold and I stared. Algalierept had plenty of passion. I'd spent hours "warming" his bed, so to speak, but that was the end of it. I always went home afterwards. It was just easier that way. Hell would probably have to go through twenty ice ages and probably explode twice before he won the 'Mr. Cuddle bug of the Year' contest. Am I really upset because the first thing he brings up is our deal and not any desire to see me?

"Regardless," Al said and he smiled, the smile making me feel like he quite liked eating other things and would I want to know what those were? "You're here now."

I sniffed. "I wreak of burnt amber," I groaned, tugging at my bodice. "It's not like I can go to the party now."

His eyes dropped low and he drew closer to me. I felt him study the ball gown and linger on the front of my dress. He seemed transfixed for a moment before he lifted his eyes to my face and captured a curl in his hand. He wrapped it around his index finger and drew it to his nose, inhaling. "I like your hair this way," he murmured, his voice honey sweet.

I felt something loosen in my chest over that. I'm pleased he liked the way I looked, I thought, almost frantic. It wasn't as if I'd worn my hair like this to please him. God, what am I doing here?

"I know a vanity curse that will change your hair permanently," he tempted, grinning at my grimace. "What is a little more black? You wouldn't even feel it."

"I'm not killing my soul for curls," I said. Nice, luscious, beautiful curls that almost made me look like a woman for the first time in my life. Curls that Algaliarept seemed to enjoy playing with. I imagined his fingers through my hair and how nice it would feel.

"We're expected at a party tonight," he whispered, breaking my train of thought. "Soon. You need to get dressed." His lips pursed appraisingly. "And take off the scent amulet."

My hand rose to the wood rose at my throat. I hadn't even computed the first part of that. "I thought you liked it," I said, hurt. I tried to look down at it but it was too low for me to see.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled. "I love it. It mixes wonderfully with your scent." He pulled me close, breath tickling on my cheek. His hand came up and gently pulled my lips from my bruising teeth. He gentled the pad of his thumb of it. "And your dress is lovely. I quite like it."

"Then what's the problem?"

He brushed the curls back from my neck and curved a hand about my throat, thumb stroking gently. He opened his mouth but shut it and stepped away. "Lenium sent you a gift," he said instead.

"A gift?" I repeated as he turned and rummaged through a small side table.

Saying nothing, he handed it to me. The box was flat and about as large as a dinner plate. It was heavy too. I weighed it in my hands before turning it over. It was covered in white velvet and I took a moment to enjoy the feel. I could feel velvet for hours and not get sick of it.

"Open it," he suggested. At my look, he added, "he's hosting the party we're going to tonight. It's ... customary, I suppose"

I didn't know this Lenium and the fact that he sent me a gift was strange. I filed it away under 'highly suspicious'. "A gift? Really?"

He raised one shoulder at the incredulous tone in my voice and I stopped opening it, my weariness growing. "Nothing is ever free in the Ever-after, my itchy witch."

"Do I have to open it? Can't I just send it back?"

He shook his head.

Ah hell. I hoped it wouldn't be anything disgusting like a severed head (the logic that the box was too small to contain such didn't my thinking brain.) What I did find inside too my breath away. "Are you kidding?"

Al made no reply and, with hesitant fingers, I lifted the gorgeous necklace from the box. I wasn't much of a jewelry person but this was magnificent. I'd never held anything so expensive in my hands. It was a silver necklace with a huge drop diamond as a pendent, surrounded by smaller rubies. It was all real too. I can tell.

I'd never be seen out in public with this kind of necklace on. I'd be killed within minutes but ...

But more than that, something else in the necklace. Something ... I ran my fingers over the large diamond. A spell of sorts. It clouded my mind, made my thoughts slow, and I wanted to put it on, to feel how nice and cool it would be against my heated flesh.

I hated the sight of it but that didn't matter because, oh god, it would feel so perfect on. It would compliment the dress and --

"What is this?" I breathed, trying to open my stiff fingers. My mind and body rebelled. What was I thinking to want to throw away such a treasure? Was I out of my mind? It would ...

Wait, my muzzy mind thought. This felt familiar. I backtracked. I'd felt something like this before. It was when ... Images of the night I'd became Al's familiar, of his weighty aura coating mine, trying to take away my will. It had been like a punch in the gut then, something I could fight.

This was insidious, like a snake. The spell that seemed small and harmless now seemed larger and more horrible than that terrible memory.

I dropped it and the feeling of connection immediately cut off. I felt sick.

My hand felt dirty. I rubbed them on my dress. "What, the hell, was that thing Al?" I felt my body shake but I couldn't control it. My hands were full of stomping down the need to either escape the Ever-after or rip off my dress and take a scalding bath.

I found him staring intently at me, as if he were scared to make a sudden move. He seemed to sigh in relief when he noticed my attention on him and I made a wide circle around the disgusting necklace as I went to him. "Algaliarept?" Oh God, when had my voice turned all weak?

It was either the tone of my voice or me using his full name that snapped him from his thoughts. He studied me and, as if pained, explained: "it's a kind of ... demon courtship."

"What?"

"In the old days --"

"Demon courtship?" Color rose in my cheeks. "Courtships? It felt ..." I made a face. It felt horrible and wonderful. Oh god. I shuddered.

"Back when there were more women," he went on, as if I hadn't spoken, "a way to tell if a man and a woman were matched would to send the woman a bit of jewelry to, ah, try it one." He fiddled. "So to speak."

"Courtship," I repeated.

"Men and women demons merge their aura's. It's natural enough." Color was rising in his cheeks and he looked decidingly embarrassed. "But some match more than others do. You know that." As if to prove it, he brushed his hand down my cheek. I felt our aura's merge, the balancing of power. It was a calming, soothing touch. "We live and love by the aura, the magic if you will."

The pounding of my temples and my rising heart calmed with his touch. I nodded and leaned into it, needed the comfort. Such a stupid little thing... but I couldn't help it.

"We do," he put emphasis on the word, as if pail in the point.

I tilted my head to look at him. "Okay," I said. "I get that. It's not a new thing but Al ..." I worried my bottom lip. Something told me I wasn't going to like this. "Why did he send it? And why did you give it to me?" I couldn't stave the touch of hurt out of my voice. "Still trying to sell me off?" I tried to joke. It fell flat.

His hand dropped and a real look of pain and frustration came over his face. "It was decided that ..." He licked his lips. "That you're an adult demon, in status." He tugged at the lace on his cuffs. "It's like turning eighteen in your world. You're a free ... demon."

I bit back my first response and let the words sink in. "Free?" I chewed over this and found myself smiling. "Free like ... ah, I can walk down the street in the demon mall without having someone jump me and sell me off? And Newt can't touch me?"

He coughed. "Newt can do anything she damn well pleases. You're not understanding, Rachel. This isn't a good thing. For one, being an adult holds more responsibility." At my look, he added, "does the FIB accept the 'but I didn't know' line when hauling adults in? Maybe they don't know. It's not a compliment. They're giving you rope long enough to hang yourself with it."

I snorted. "Yeah right," I muttered. But the more I thought about it, the more I understood what he was saying. I looked at him sharply and he went on. "What, exactly, do you mean and what does that necklace have to do with it?"

"I can only teach you so much and your leyline skills are sadly lacking." He held up a hand to forestall my anger. "In any other circumstance, you would've been considered my student -- partly property -- for another hundred years or so. The reason they did this now is because when you belong to me, no one else can lure you away."

He paused and smiled. "Well, they could lure you away, but they couldn't keep you. It wasn't an act of compassion to 'free' you. They want you. I have you. They simply took me out of the equation." More gently, he added, "I can't protect you simply by being with you anymore. Do you understand?"

"You mean I'm ... bait? Or fresh meat or ..."

His smile turned sickly. "Why do you think Newt is bald and barefoot and has all the shape of a ten year old boy? Women were never plentiful and babies even less. We all thought we'd be stronger if a girl child was born to Newt, that we wouldn't fight." He gave a dry chuckle. "I suppose we aren't, really. You're a beautiful woman -- a beautiful demon woman. The ones who finally believe you are want you and the ones who don't will come around. Why do you think I push you so hard? I want you to be safe."

"But I don't want any other demon!" The protest left my mouth before I could say anything.

His smirk turned decidingly lecherous. It died almost as soon as it was born. "I have to give you those kinds of gifts. If I don't, they'll say I'm not giving you your options. You have to touch them, Rachel. I'm sorry." He turned away and walked over to a set of small cabinets against a far wall. "I might not have much anymore," he said, coming back over to me, "but I do have this."

He held a small necklace, the silver chain so fine I had a hard time seeing it. Tiny pink pearls dotted it and at the end sat a largish pearl in a simple silver setting. I held still has he put it on.

No, not a necklace, a tiny tiara. The pearl hung down to the middle of my forehead. I turned my head this way and that, enjoying the feeling of it roll on my forehead. It had a spell buried in it too. I pursed my lips. It was the same kind of spell as the necklace but this one was nice. Maybe this was a kind of mark of ownership.

"Your aura," I stated.

He nodded, fingers brushing my neck, dipping down my back. I stepped into the embrace and turned my face up to him. He was close enough to kiss, close enough that his warmth invaded me, making me feel safe. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to forget the topic of conversation. The thought of many demons, only too happy to "help" me, made me want to shudder.

His breath feathered against my cheek and one hand continued to smooth it's way down my back. I shifted and he caught a curl in his other hand. "You've been like a fire, Rachel. A raging wild fire." He brought the curl up to his lips. "You came into my life and burned everything to the ground."

I felt a sharp tug on the dress straps. I stared at him confused. What was he saying and he meant to undress me here? My hands almost went behind me to help him.

"But I didn't know how dead I was until you," he added, his voice dropping to a liquid heat. "Everything is so much more alive with you around, Rachel. I don't want to loose you."

I wanted to say that I would stay with him forever, if he would stay like this, all warm and comforting. I'd stay if he'd ask me. Not in the stuffy, british-laiden, "you belong here, Rachel. We're your people," accent he uses, as if it was my fault for being born what I am. If he would just --

"That's why," his lips brushed the curve of my neck, spending goose flesh down my spin. The tugging increased and I raised my hands to help him, "I want to protect you. You have to trust me. Going dressed in this will ..."

I stiffened in his embrace. This had all be about my dress? I pushed him away, the front of my dress gapping open. My cheeks flamed in anger. I had believed him. I would've ...

"You're incredulous," I cried, trying not to cry. Oh God, Rach. You're a fool. You almost let yourself believe a demon. What were you thinking? "You'd say anything to get your way, you bastard." I tightened the back of my gown in tight, angry tugs, not caring if it wasn't as tight as before.

I turned away, fighting the urge to rip off the stupid tiara. Maybe that was why I'd felt like ... I drew my bottom lip between my teeth. "If you want to me to go to your stupid party, then I'm going in this dress."

He started to say something but the look I tossed over my shoulder stopped him. He met my eyes, holding them for several seconds, before sighing in defeat. "Fine," he said stiffly. He came over and tugged my dress tighter, knotting it up once more. I fought him, pulling away and stepping back.

I was a stiff statue when he took my arm. I looked like Hell burned over, I know. My make-up was probably messed up from tears and sweat, my hair was mussed all over the place. He didn't even give me a minute to look in the mirror or to get some shoes on. What an ass!

And I'd believed him! His words still coarsed through me, leaving burning trails behind, threatening to leave me weak and wanting. I'd believed him! He was only so warm when we made love (I couldn't get up the courage to use the word fuck) but I wasn't young enough to believe anything said between the sheets.

Bastard, I silently spat.

We materialized in a small anti-chamber, attended to by one servant or familiar (I couldn't tell. The beaten, broken look was shared amongst all that weren't demons.) I thought I'd been here before but I couldn't quite remember. I'd been in so many lavish rooms since coming to the Ever-after.

I scuffed my feet as he pulled me along, realizing I'd arrived wearing a pair of embroidered red slippers.

This help my attention until we started down the winding staircase. It opened into a huge dome-lime ballroom, a blazing candle chandelier at the center. It appeared to be held in place with nothing and above that was a large hole cut out of the ceiling to let in the night sky.

As we touched the ground floor, a servant gave me a dance card, bowed, and skittered off. I'd never seen a dance card until coming to the Ever-after. Demons are ever the considerate personages, until you turned your back and found a knife embedded above your right shoulder, that is.

I looked at Al, wondering if he would request a dance. The anger was gone but the hurt remained. I covered it with annoyance and decided I owed him no favors. I'd ruined his life? Oh, that was a good one. Who'd tried to kill whom several times, eh? Did he think it had been a walk in the park smelling daisies to be shunned? Or to have Ceri afraid to hug me?

So when the first demon came up to request the first dance, I shot him a look and accepted his hand. After that demon (Malrik? I forget. Stupid demon names), three more arrived, asking to be put on my dance card. After a moments thought, I scribbled Al's name in the second to last dance (that would make him feel bad) and spent the night dancing with demons.

Lenium claimed my hand in one of his gloved hands at the third to last dance, after the tea. One of my partners had pointed him out to me and I'd studiously avoided him as best I could but he'd cornered me. He was terribly handsome, which wasn't as much a shock to my system anymore. I suppose the Ever-after does that for you, if nothing else.

He was angry. That charming white smile and dimples couldn't quite cover the anger in the back of his red goat-slitted eyes. He gave the pearl drop a slight sneer and pulled me into the dance after a polite greeting. Did I like the ballroom? Aren't the decorations lovely? And the food? Why, I had several chefs specially prepare it, and so on.

Beyond that, I found him (and every other demon I'd danced with) to be very lacking in manners. It was as if they didn't know how to treat me. They either were all silence and introspective or they babbled, talking about everything they had. In a way, I supposed it should be like this. What other thing did demons have after thousands of years, save possessions?

It made me feel a bit sorry for them. And it wasn't like they had experience talking to women. Familiars were one thing, but they didn't talk back and they knew what you were thinking or feeling. It wasn't the same thing. Newt didn't really count. They paid deference to her but that was more on the account than she would turn and slaughter an entire room if the wind changed directions.

Poor Minias, I thought. Another life I'd screwed up. I wondered if he were truly dead.

There was a ten minute pause between the two dances. Lenium took me out by a refreshment table (not offering to get me anything, I noted) and proceeded to talk at me, his eyes none too subtly going down the front of my dress every five or ten seconds. My head swam with disgust and I started looked around for Algaliarept, trying to break into his none stop stream of conversation.

A bare hand came up and brushed a tumble of curls off my shoulder. I stiffed when our skin touched, eyes widening. For a moment, our aura's merged, and I felt the world drop away. It was like the necklace but a hundred times worse. I could do nothing to stop it and it felt like rape. The look of mixed surprise and a terrible pleasure, like a man seeing the sun after many years underground, terrified me.

I drew back, breaking in the contact. It felt good. Not the glorious way that Al's touches evoked, but in the guilty pleasure of a cheese burger. I wanted to kill him. My mind searched for the how of it but nothing came. Our eyes met and just as I swung my hand to slap him, another grabbed my wrist and pulled me back a step.

"Sorry Lenium," Algaliarept murmured, kissing my fingers. His aura merged with me, our energy balanced, and slowly the disgusting feeling of Lenium was pushed away. "It's our dance."

I stared at the demon as Al pulled me away, the raging fury on his face scaring me. He wasn't even trying to shield it and that made me all the more angry. "Al --" I began.

"Rachel," his voice soothed, reaching through my rage. He drew in a deep breath when he saw me get a handle on my rage. "Remember our discussion tonight, Rachel?" His voice was gentle, teasing, but it held an edge.

"He! He!" I drew in a breath. "He did something to me," I said, mortified. Tears pricked my eyes. "I want to kill him."

"Remember our discussion about adults? Adults don't try to murder each other in a crowded ballroom." He pushed me back and tipped my chin forward, making certain I caught his every word. "You played right into his hands, Rachel. He wants you, you know that. If you'd done anything against him, in this crowded ballroom, he would've sued for restitution. He probably would've won." He grimaced and added, "probably would ask for lot of 'alone' time too."

I wasn't aware of the tears until Al brushed them away with one callused thumb. "But he ..." I sniffed, feeling ashamed.

He sighed again and pulled me against him. His hard chest felt right against my burning cheek. "I told you it would get harder," he murmured.

"You didn't say that he'd try to rape me on the dance floor!"

He arched a brow. "He didn't. And I did warn you. You touched that necklace. You know his intentions, even if you aren't letting yourself be aware of them."

I wanted to be angry with him but his pensive look staved it off. His eyes were distant and his mouth was set in a frown. I had a feeling he was even more angry than I was but wasn't allowed to show it. "I'm sorry," I said suddenly, the silence between us growing too uncomfortable for me. "At least I didn't cost you an arm," I added, trying to smile.

He snorted. "You cost me enough."

My smile grew slightly bitter. "Right. I'm sorry again. Losing your investment would really suck."

Al stopped so suddenly that I almost tripped over my feet. "Is that what you think?" He tipped my chin back and tightened his arm around me. I saw the flash of fury in his red eyes and I raised a hand to smooth the angry knot in his jaw. I thought he would kiss me but he caught my hand and only kissed my fingertips.

He paused for a moment then pulled us back into the flow of dancers. I stared at him, dump struck. Not at his action, per say, but the feelings that kiss had caused in my belly and the effect of his angry, his worry, on me. I felt for this man. His moods seemed to affect me as much as mind did his.

Another, more terrifying, thought struck me. I can't love this man, can I?

I'd long ago come to the realization that I needed this man. He was (or had been, at least) my protection from the Ever-after. I might not be brilliant, but I knew enough that if I removed this man that another would be in his place. A man who'd probably see my freedoms as being the wrong way to deal with a troubled woman like me. I might even end up confused and bewildered like Newt had been when I first met her.

Demons would never leave me alone. I'd accept that.

I'd accepted that only Algaliarept had been able to make me feel so wonderful but tonight made me think otherwise. The strange thing was that I still wanted him. I wanted him more than I had. He'd said it was natural and I'd taken him at his word.

I saw now that it was but what I felt, the way he made me feel and how easily he comforted me, was beyond the basic, primal pleasure Lenium had invoked in me. I felt I needed him on so many levels. But that couldn't mean I loved him, could it? I'd be lost if I admitted that. Demons can't love, can they?

"I can't do anything, Rachel," he said, tugging me from my thoughts. "Demon women pick their lovers. They form ... bonds, like a marriage. Until that happens, I can't interfere with you and other demons." He saw my confusion. "The bonds are similar to familiar bonds, only the man acts like the, ah, familiar." He blushed. "It's different, though. Familiar bonds are a very pale imitation of the connection."

I shuddered at the thought and licked suddenly dry lips. Familiar bonds? I didn't know if I could do that. I'd been a familiar and had familiars. It was terrible. The feeling that I was about to loose Al was even worse.

"Is the thought so horrible?" Al's grin was bitter.

I shook my head. "Are we done here?" The dance was about to end, the dancers already parting and the music winding down. I felt Al slow, his arms tightening about me.

"One last dance," came his soft reply. "Who is on your card?"

"Dali," I grimaced. The older demon gave me the creeps. Not because he leered at me or gave me lecherous looks like the others but there was a quiet menace about him, an air of danger that only Newt came close to topping. I figured he was very old, maybe about as old as Newt herself. "I don't want to dance with him."

He nodded. "We'll just say you were ..." He gave me a look. "Sick, shall we hum?"

"Sure." I leaned against him as I felt him carry us away.

Much later I rested on top of him, comfortable and saited with him still buried deep inside me. Demon sex was more about the aura's and soul than the body. My soul rest in Al's body with his own, almost merging, as our bodies were connected. To disconnect would bring my soul back, breaking the close feeling. Always before I'd wanted to get away as soon as it was done, and Al had always let me, but tonight ...

"Can I stay with you tonight," I asked, surprising even me. It felt right, this complete connection of our souls. I wanted to sleep in him fully, to be safe and protected once in my life. Just this once, I told myself. Just tonight.

His arm tightened about my waist and I could feel the shock, surprise, and strange pleasure in him, like the child who gets a needed hug from a distant parent. "Of ... Of course," he breathed. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, and pulled the blankets up about us. "Good night Rachel."

He didn't try to shift me off of him or to break our connection. This was right. We were right together, in the way we were born to be. I wasn't too heavy a weight nor did my closeness bother him, as it had Pierce and the others. He didn't push me aside and that made my heart swell.

But this isn't love, I thought yawning. My lashes lowered and Al murmured something to dim the lights. I couldn't fall in love with a demon. I wouldn't. I was much too smart for that.

Complete

Yay for one-shots, no? I'm afraid I was waaay too wordy and exploitive in this story. I tried to cut it down but it still ended up long. I'm sorry. =X (And I didn't make the 200th post either. *sobs* I tried.)

But I hope you like it. R&R if you wish. =)


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